


From Winter to Summer and Winter Again III

by michael_kelso72



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Death, F/M, Game of Thrones - Freeform, House Bolton, House Stark, Robb Stark is King in the North, The Dreadfort (ASoIaF), The North (ASOIAF), The North Remembers (ASoIaF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22096768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michael_kelso72/pseuds/michael_kelso72
Summary: The Tale of Robb Stark's doting wife. All characters and settings but my OC belong to George RR Martin.
Relationships: Robb Stark/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Ramsay Snow sat in his sister's emptied chambers, at the desk that was deteriorating with each passing day. He traced his fingers over the divets in its wood, dagger marks. His blue eyes danced over Rhaenyra's letter. She wanted him at Winterfell. Twisting his face at looped letters, he leaned back into the high back chair. He gripped its arms as the letter stopped. Contemplating, he smoothed the parchment over the desk. Ramsay pressed his gloved hands to his cheeks. 

His eyes met the seal that he delicately slid off. The grey wax evoked a sour feeling in his chest, rage came at the sight of the dire wolf head. Ramsay chucked it over his shoulder, pulling the dagger in the back of his belt as he did. Slowly he read over the letter. His eyes stopped at the mention of his two nephews, he struck the letter with the tip of the dagger at the beautifully written 'Domeric'. The paper was now imbedded into the desk. 

"Ramsay!" Quickly he pulled the dagger from the desk, crumbling the parchment into his pocket. 

"Coming father," he called back. Ramsay left the room, nearly falling into his father as he did. "My apologies, Lord Bolton." 

Roose leaned away from his son, looking the boy over. "Lord Stark has called the banners, I am leaving to see your sister at once. You will be acting Lord of the Dreadfort until I return." A false smile on his face, Ramsay nodded. 

"Please father, send my sister my blessings. And thank you for this honor." His hand reached into his pocket, silently ripping the parchment between his fingers. Roose left him in the hallway, leaving him alone in his rage-filled state.


	2. Chapter 1

Winterfell was all but silent. Countless Northern Lords yelled throughout the halls, screaming constant profanities at each other. There was no shame in their words. Their disrespect never cessed, gathering together in gossip corners speaking words of hate for their young Lord and Warden. Rhaenyra Stark was not surprised to find her father in these corners. 

Rhaenyra leaned into her seat, her head propped against her fist. She annoyingly watched each of the high lords spoke amongst themselves before her. Her eyes wandered to the banners on that rested against the stone walls, Glover, Karstark, Reed, Mormont, Bolton, and of course Stark. Her hand moved from the chair's arm, she sat straighter. Rhaenyra reached bellow the table to gently scratch her ever-growing dire wolf's ear. Grey Wind laid comfortable between her and Robb, feeling satisfied with this form of protection. 

Robb Stark examined the Lord's with her. He watched as each made gestures to him, screaming about his youth and naivety but remained silent. His hand reached for his wife's, who gripped back in pure anger. Robb ignored the foul comments. He dominantly spoke about their battle plans. Robb used his distaste for the Lannisters to further enhance his reasonings. It was not difficult to convince the Lord's to go to war, they too demanded justice. He and Rhaenyra sighed as Greatjon Umber pushed himself further from the table. Umber sat taller, clearly attempting to appear intimidating.

"For thirty years I've been making corpses out of men, boy!" He looked to Robb, "I'm the man you want leading the vanguard."

Robb rolled his eyes, removing his hand from Rhaenyra's. "Galbart Glover will lead the van." 

"The bloody Wall will melt before an Umber marches behind a Glover," Greatjon gestured to Lord Glover who remained calm in his seat drinking his mead. "I will lead the van."Rhaenyra decided to ease her nerves with her drink as well, downing her chalice of wine as the Umber continued. "Or I will take my men and march them home." 

Robb tensed at his words, he held his hands together in attempts to calm himself. Rhaenyra reassuringly placed her hand on his thigh, he ignored her touch. "You are welcome to do so Lord Umber," he stood from his seat, gripping the table as he did. "And when I am done with the Lannisters, I will march back North. Root you out of your keep and hang you for an oathbreaker." Rhaenyra admired the way he spoke and attempted to hide the smile that spread across her lips. 

The smile disappeared as Greatjon screamed, "Oathbreaker?!" He pushed his dinner across the table and onto the floor. He stood, gripping the sword that rested against his chair. Rhaenyra abruptly stood with him and reached for her dagger that laid in the belt at her waist. She saw the Lord's eyes shift to her hand. "I'll not sit here and take insults from a boy so green he pisses grass!" Greatjon drew his sword and Grey Wind jumped over the table. Rhaenyra's smiled returned at the sound of the Lord's screams. 

Others crowded around the scene, Rhaenyra did not find satisfaction in his torment till she heard a pop of Greatjon's finger. "Enough," she called the wolf off. He obediently rejoined her side, snout covered in flesh and blood. The lord arose, his hand drenched in blood. 

"My lord father taught me it was death to bare steel against your liege lord," spoke Robb. "Doubtless, the Greatjon Umber meant to cut my meat for me." The Umber kicked his chair, Rhaenyra pulled her dagger from its sheath and embedded it into the table, the bowls and cutlery shifting as she did. 

"Another outburst and it'll be your head." 

Greatjon shifted away from the table, only to look back to Robb with questioning eyes. "Your meat is bloody tough." Rhaenyra pulled the dagger back as the Lord's, and her husband erupted into obnoxious laughter. She retook her seat and switched her chalice with Robb's cup of mead. She needed to be drunk to handle the group of men before her. 

Hours filled with food, wine, and discussions and Rhaenyra was rightfully drunk, leaning more into Robb's chair than her own. She did not know what was discussed but was aware they would leave in hours time. Her hand reached over to her husband, entangling them into his curls. She pulled the tamed hair, making it the wild mop she always enjoyed. Rhaenyra giggled as Robb gave a confusing look. She could not properly hear the words he muttered to her. Gently, he lifted her from her seat by her forearms. Rhaenyra smiled to him but gave a surprised screech as he lifted her by her legs to toss her over his shoulder. 

She watched as the floor oddly shifted under her husband's steps. Her eyes closed as he walked up the steps to the living quarters. Rhaenyra let her fingers curl against the fur on Robb's shoulders as she heard the familiar squeak of their bedroom door. 

"There you are," he placed her onto the bed, laughing as she burrowed herself onto the blankets. "Rhea," she snapped her eyes opened at his call. 

"What?" She whispered.

Robb sunk to his knees beside her head. "We're leaving tonight. Will you be ready?"

"I know. I am not the brightest." She giggled and gently tapped his nose. "I'll sober up before then." He nodded and turned to leave, Rhaenyra giggled as she watched him exit the room. 

She laid staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing through her mind. Rhaenyra thought of the journey she, and her family would endure. Of the sacrifice her husband would make, venturing to kill alongside the bannermen. She thought of the men who would die for their fight, of their families. The thought of being present amongst the war camp soothed her. She refused to be left behind, she refused to be an obedient Lady wife.


	3. Chapter 2

The sun barely peaked against the horizon. Its fresh light delicately cascaded against the Northern hills. The shine glistened on the swords and armor of the twelve thousand men that willingly followed Robb and Rhaenyra Stark south. Rhaneyra smiled as she adjusted the sling her son happily slept in. She tightened her legs around her horse to quicken its trots. The bounces of the horse seemed to soothe her child. She giggled at the thought. Rhaenyra's hand rested against Henry's head, the other gripping the reigns of her horse. She quickly looked down to the sleeping baby. He ignored the loud chatter and horses' trots around him.

Her hand pulled the reigns back as a familiar voice shouted, "Rhaenyra!" She rolled her eyes as the horse stopped.

"Yes," Rhaenyra turned to greet her father. His blue eyes bore into hers as he slowly reached her side.

"You brought both of your sons?"

"Yes."

"You think it wise to have brought both of the heirs to Winterfell and the Dreadfort? Out into a war camp where an assassin can easily kill you as well as them."

Rhaenyra moved her horse forward, her father followed. "It is nice to know you care about me as well." Her father smiled.

"Of course, the Bolton legacy rests on your shoulders and the baby at your breast. Domeric carries on the Starks'." Rhaenyra quickly glanced to him, her hand tightened around Henry as she did.

"If we die, the Boltons die," her father nodded. "You're frightened by the thought of it."

"There is still Ramsay."

"A Snow."

"He has my blood," Rhaenyra laughed.

"But not your name and the thought of him carrying the line tortures you, father."

Roose sighed, his hands tightened on the reins of his horse. "It does. I hate your husband for having you, and the children, here. What was his rationale? He needs you? The emotional support, the loyalty of his Lady wife?" Rhaenyra continued to look forward, ignoring his words. "Piss. His selfishness will be the death of my house."

Rhaenyra pushed her horse forward, ignoring the words of her father as she began to search for her husband amongst the hoard. She found him at the helm, laughing with Domeric on their shared horse. She trotted beside them to join their brief moment of happiness.

It had been early afternoon when the army had reached the Neck. Twelve thousand men marched behind Lord and Lady Stark, trusting their reasoning for battle. Rhaenyra had never felt so honored until she had countless swords behind her, ready to kill for her house. She felt protected, even as she stood alone amongst them bouncing her son against her hip. Her violet eyes scanned over their faces as they set the camp around her.

Rhaenyra caught sight of her maid, whispering to a Karstark soldier and blushed as he took her hand. She shook her head and began to regret bringing her. Attempting to ignore the sight, she began to walk to her family's tent. She quickly walked between the opening, ignoring Theon who weakly attempted to greet her at his post.

Rhaenyra passed the desk by the entry, gently grazing it as she looked to the bed. She sat against the edge as she heard Robb gently speaking to Domeric. She repositioned Henry, eyes turning to the bed.

"I want to go home," Domeric softly said.

"We just left moments ago and you already wish to go back."Robb laughed, his hand reaching to flatten his son's curls.

Rhaenyra sighed as Domeric pushed his hand away. "Yes, I don't want to camp."

"The camp is our home. Just for a bit." She heard the sadness in Robb's voice and went to sit beside him.

She placed Henry on the bed, her hand rested against his back as he attempted to sit up. "We will be here for a little bit, but it will be no different than home. Your name day celebrations will be just as grand as at Winterfell, perhaps even better. All the Northern Lord's give great gifts."

Robb laughed, "Yes, one may even give you a sword." Domeric's eyes brightened at the thought.

"When do we go home?"

"Once your Aunts and Grandfather are back with us, then we can all return home." Domeric hopped off the bed, quickly running trunk that laid beside the desk in the tent. He pushed it over to retrieve his toys and proceeded to ignore his parents as he began to play.

Rhaenyra turned in her seat to look over her husband. "Henry!" The baby curiously turned at the sound of his name. "Dada's all dressed up. He's ready to be Lord Stark today." Robb furrowed his brow, his hand pressed into his breastplate.

"I only wear the armor in case your father wishes to stab me in the belly," he laughed gently. "Did you see his glare this morning?"

Rhaenyra's smile faded as she brought Henry to her lap. "Don't say that. I am beginning to believe my father has doubts," her free hand stroked through her husband's hair. "Will there be a meeting?"

"Yes, any minute now. You are welcome to come."

"Me? A woman! Attending the battle plan meetings? Oh how the lords will rage." Her hand gripped her chest as she tried to contain her laughter at her own actions. "Of course I will go. I need to know what I need to lie about in case I'm captured," she widened her eyes playfully. 

"Alright," Robb said, "So dramatic, as always." He gently held her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her.

Moments later, Rhaenyra sat at the head of a poorly built table in a suffocating tent. She watched as the high-born Lords yelled erratically around her. Each seemed to disagree with her husband or each other, on little matters. Her eyes watched as Robb repeatedly hit the map on the table, she rose from her seat to see. The shouts of the Lord's silenced her mind, she could not focus on their words.

"The Riverlords are falling back with Jaime Lannister at their heels. And Lord Tywin is bringing around a second Lannister army from the South. Our scouts confirm it's even larger than the Kingslayer's," spoke Robb.

"Both Tywin and the Kingslayer?" Questioned Rhaenyra, "So it is a matter of who we strike first."

"Aye, we have our work cut out for us, my Lady," said Lord Glover.

"One army or two, the Kings in the North threw back hosts ten times this large," spoke Greatjon Umber. His eyes glanced to Robb before turning to the map.

Rhaenyra rested her head against her knuckles sighing as the shouts began to quiet, her eyes began to close slightly before she heard her husband shout, "Mother!" She stood quickly, looking past the men to see Lady Catelyn stand beside Ser Rodrick.

"You look well," Catelyn whispered. Rhaenyra pushed passed the men to greet her good mother. "Rhaenyra? You should be in Winterfell!"

She smiled, "How could I leave your son's side at this moment?"

"I need her mother, I refused to leave her. I-"

Robb was interrupted by Greatjon's thundering voice. "Lady Stark! You are a welcomed sight! We weren't expecting to meet you down here."

"I had not thought to be here. I would speak with my son and his wife alone. I know you will forgive me, My Lords."

"You heard her! Move your asses! Come on, out," shouted Umber. Rhaenyra pinched the bridge of her nose. "You too Greyjoy," he shoved Theon out by his collar. " Have no fear, My Lady. We'll shove our swords up Tywin Lannister's bunghole, and then it's on to the Red Keep to free Ned." 

Catelyn nodded, before turning to the young Lord and Lady Stark. "I remember the day you came into this world red-faced and screaming. And now I find you leading a host to war," she wrapped her arms around her son.

"There was no one else," Catelyn wrapped her arms around Rhaenyra before quickly turning back to Robb.

"What of the men that just left the tent? Are they not seasoned in battle?"

Rhaenyra shrugged, "None of them are Starks."

"If you think you can send me back to Winterfell-"

Catelyn interrupted her son, "I wish I could."

Rhaenyra returned to the table, removing papers to retrieve a letter she had hidden amongst them. "There was a letter." She handed the scroll to her good mother. "From Sansa."

"You mean the queen," she read the letter quickly. "There is no mention of Arya."

"She is fine. I have no doubts about her safety."

"How many men do we have?"

"Twelve thousand," spoke Robb. "If I go to Kingslanding and bend the knee-"

Rhaenyra interrupted him, "Don't say such things. They will keep you prisoner, kill you even. Our only hope is to defeat them in battle!" 

"What if I lose?"

"Do you know what happened to the Targaryen children, when the Mad King fell?" Questioned Catelyn. Robb turned to Rhaenyra, his face paling.

"They were slaughtered in their sleep."

"On the orders of Tywin Lannister. And the years have not made him kinder. If you lose, our entire family dies."

Rhaenyra reached for her husband's hand, "That makes it simple then, husband."

"It does," he grinned to his mother and wife.


	4. Chapter 3

Once again the Lord's were screaming to each other. Their words had long become incoherent, echoing a loud hum throughout the tent. Each would point down to the map that laid across the table, some would throw the wooden sigils across the small space. The extreme dramatics went on for hours. Rhaenyra could see the frustration settle into her husband's face. These men were to be his advisors, but here they were arguing between each other rather than offering support. 

She fiddled with her sleeve as she continued to ignore their talks, she mindlessly looked toward the map of Westeros thinking of the places she had traveled to or wanted to travel to. A perk of being at war, getting to see the country. Her thoughts were interrupted as Theon flipped the map over, the sound of the wooden sigils disrupting the unnoticed silence. Rhaenyra stood from her seat between her father and good mother. She looked to see her husband whispering calmly to a man who was detained by two guards. He was a spy. 

A Lannister spy. 

Rhaenyra watched as Robb's eyes went cold as each word slipped. Her eyes followed him as he quickly left the tent, leaving her stranded with the Northern Lords and what little family was present. Murmurs spread through the small tent, whispers of her husband's wrong actions. The low words were interrupted by Greatjon Umber hollering.

"Foolish boy! He dare let a Lannister ally leave? How thick can he be? Tywin is preparing how to strike! The Kingslayer will know what to be ready for! Stupid boy!" Rhaenyra continued to look toward the spot where her husband once stood. 

She spoke, "Lord Umber. If you call my husband a boy again I will not only take your tongue but your head as I promised. Do you understand? He is your Lord, the man leading you to battle, but you disrespect him as if he were a horse's ass. Don't speak ill of the wolves." Rhaenyra exited, ignoring the shocked silence that erupted in the tent. She quickly made haste toward her family's tent, knowing Robb wanted to see their children. 

"Why did you follow me?" She slowed her steps, dropping her skirts from her hand as she caught sight of him leaning against post. His hand rested against the hilt of his sword, the other anxiously pushing through his curls. 

"Because you needed me to." Rhaenyra slowly walked to him, pulling his hand away from his sword. She intertwined their fingers and brought the back of his gloved hand to her lips. "You were going to see our sons?" 

"Our children help me keep my sanity." His free hand rested on her shoulder, his blue eyes met hers. "And you as well." He brought her to his chest. Rhaenyra giggled as her cheek pressed against the freezing breastplate. 

She sighed, "You need to decide where we will strike. You can't just leave like that." She pushed away, looking up to him with a desperate look. 

"I can," Robb spoke. 

"Robb," she reached him and gripped the fur around his cloak. "Be serious. The quicker we are with this, the quicker we win." 

His gloved hand dropped from her shoulder, the other still encased in hers. "Fine. I still need to see my sons," he tugged her arm to continue their walk. "Our options are Tywin or the Kingslayer."

"Simple, the Kingslayer. Attacking him will weaken Tywin's morale, weakening the Lannister's army as a whole. Either way, the lion gets attacked by the wolf, losing the disrespect of his army." 

Robb nodded, stopping as he did. "If we attack Tywin-"

"If we attack Twyin we will not have enough men to sack King's Landing." 

He frowned, "To attack either we need to cross the river." 

"Simple, we will get Frey support." 

"How?"

"We negotiate if they wish for marriage we abid." Rhaenyra looked to the floor, she pressed her free hand to her cheek. "I pray it doesn't come to that." 

"We will leave at dawn to meet with the Riverlords." 

Robb pulled her hand to continue their walk. The two eagerly rushed to the largest tents on the ground, quickly greeting the two guards at the entrance. Rhaenyra beamed at the sight of her children, dropping her husband's hand to lift Domeric into her arms. 

"You were gone for so long," whined Domeric. His mother smiled, letting her hand glide through his curly hair 

"Just an hour," she kissed his cheek, letting him fall to the floor as she did. Rhaenyra laughed lightly as he ran toward Robb and his brother. "Your grandmother's here." 

Domeric smiled, "Can I visit her?" His blue eyes widened in delight at the thought of seeing his grandmother. 

Robb laughed adjusting Henry in his arms. "Later perhaps, or in the morning." He fell back onto the mattress, Henry squealed. His hands slapped against his father's armor, light taps littered the room with each hit. 

Rhaenyra's violet eyes scanned the tent quickly, she turned to Domeric. "Where's mama's maid?" 

"Getting a new book." She could hear the frown in her son's voice. She turned toward her family, watching as Domeric examined his father's armor. His small hands delicately traced the edges of Robb's breastplate. His curious eyes looked over the details in the metal, the carvings that represented House Stark. Domeric smiled as his hands reached the center of his father's chest, where the single head of a dire wolf rested. "Grey Wind." Robb nodded to his son, kissing the top of his head as his eyes met Rhaenyra's. 

Hours later, Rhaenyra laid in bed with her family. The exhaustion from travel did not ease stress, causing her to stay awake on the hard mattress. Across her children was her husband just as awake. His eyes bore into hers, the two trying and failing not to giggle over their state. Their desperation for sleep clearly evident in their hysterics. Their sons luckily remained asleep. 

Rhaenyra gently pushed the furs off her, moving her pillow to stop Henry from falling off the bed. She slowly walked to the edge of the bed and fell to the floor before it. Through her nightdress, she felt the dew of the grass. She smiled and let her hands tickle the blades. Rhaenyra heard Robb leave the bed, she turned slightly to see him join her side. 

He sat beside her in his undergarments, smiling gently as he fell to the wet grass. "Hi," he whispered. 

"Hello," she gave a small wave. "Are you ready for tomorrow?" Robb shook his head, his hair shifted as he did. "Why?" 

"I am frightened. What if they do not wish to bargain?"

"They will." Rhaenyra reached for his closest hand over the grass, gripping it in a clammy clutch. "I know they will."

"But what if-" he attempted to whisper louder. 

She sighed, "We will get your family back to the North, we will all be together again. Allying with the Freys is just a minor thing we must do to ensure it." Robb turned fully to her, her violet eyes were lighter in the moonlight. 

"Can you promise me something?" She nodded. "If I die," her mouth opened to interrupt, he held up a finger. "Stop. Let me finish. If I die, remarry. You need to be happy love."

"I am happy now, a life without you would be torture." 

"Promise me."

"Fine. I promise, but I am not saying I'll enjoy it." Rhaenyra moved closer to her husband, her shoulder touching his. "I am not saying the same to you. You have your heirs."

Robb's arm wrapped around her shoulders as he kissed her head. "With death ever so paramount. Will you delight me with some answers to some inquiries?" 

"Now I am a wee bit scared," she placed her hand on his thigh. 

"I feel as your husband I have the right to know. I need to know, was I your first? In everything?" Rhaenyra slapped his chest, the hit ringing throughout the tent. 

"Robb Stark! You filth! What kind of Lady do you take me for?" She stood from the grass shoving his head lightly before returning to the bed. 

"Was I?" He laughed lightly, trying not to wake their sons. 

"Yes, kiss, hand-holding everything if you do need to know!" Rhaenyra lifted the blankets and pushed her pillow back to the head of the bed. "I need no answer from you, Jon and Theon already told me." She laid her head on the pillow, ignoring the clearly shocked face of her husband. 

"Goodnight, I love you." Rhaenyra heard the rustling of sheets followed by Robb's deep laughter. 

"I love you."


	5. Chapter 4

"The birdy's falling!" Screamed Domeric as he pointed to the sky. A raven, leaving the direction of the Twins barrelled toward the ground. An arrow shot through its feathered body. His blue eyes followed the dying animal until it hit the ground, he then watched as Theon picked up the bird in his hands and pulled a letter from its small carrier. 

"Want to play with it, little Lord?" He laughed, tossing the bird back to the ground. Domeric's eyes widened and he went to stand closer to his father, hiding behind his legs and under his cloak. 

He heard his mother snidely speak to the ward, "Don't disrespect my son." Rhaenyra coldly looked to Theon, her violet eyes burning into his. "Apologize, for I fear he will remain under that cloak until you do." 

"Fine," Theon crouched before the father and son. "My Lord Stark, I am sorry for frightening you. Please join our discussions once more." He smiled at the child as he emerged from the heavy cloak.

Domeric slowly walked to Theon, "Please don't choose my toys for me." He nodded to the young Lord, returning to his height as he did. The ward handed the scrolled letter to Robb. 

Rhaenyra anxiously stood beside her husband, cradling her youngest son in a sling across her chest. She watched as he opened the tight scroll with shaky hands and gave a shattered breath as his shoulders dropped in ease. Robb turned to her, "It's a birthday message to his niece." Rhaenyra's grip on her son tightened as worry encased her. The thought of the Freys conspiring with the Lannisters was fearful. 

She gazed down to the muddy graze, noticing the light snow that littered the blades. "Keep shooting them down," Theon nodded and eagerly grabbed his bow. Her eyes followed him as he ran down the hill, eyes searching the sky for ravens. "You can never be so sure." Robb hummed in response. He looked toward her, noticing the shakiness of her hands as they delicately held their child. 

"I'll hold him." She shook her head. "Love-,"

"If I let him go then I won't feel safe," her eyes shifted to Domeric who left their side. "Just let me hold him," Robb said nothing. He joined her in watching Domeric run to his grandmother, watching as he eagerly spoke to her. It was a joy to see their faces brighten together. "We can't risk Walder sending word of our movements to the Lannisters." 

Robb sighed, "We need to cross." 

"Do we even know if he will allow us to?"

"He is my grandfather's bannerman." 

Rhaenyra turned to him, a hand falling from Henry to reach toward Robb. "That means nothing to him," her hand rested against his arm. "Your mother describes him as if he is filth and I fear we may be disappointed with the outcome of our meeting." 

"All my men say we should just slit his throat and be done with it. Take the Twins for our own," Rhaenyra smiled at the thought. 

"Our way is never easy though." Robb wrapped his arms around her, mindful of Henry who separated the two. He kissed the crown of her head then pulled away to gaze down toward their child. 

He laughed lightly, "How can he sleep through everything?" Rhaenyra shrugged. "Domeric cried constantly, but I feel the gods blessed us with a quiet son for a reason. What it is, I do not know." His gloved fingers caressed the feathery red hair that began to curl on Henry's head. 

"My Lord!" Screamed Lord Karstark, causing the two to separate fully. Rhaenyra quickly glanced at Domeric, seeing Catelyn held him in her arms. She then turned toward the distance, seeing two men approaching on horseback. 

"You're sure you want to do this?" Questioned Rhaenyra. 

"My father rots in a dungeon, my sisters are prisoners. How long until they are butchered?" She nodded and reached for his hand.

"Then, we shall negotiate. We will cross." She sighed as Theon began to run up the hill, a dead raven in hand. "Why do you have that?"

"Dinner. I also came to say, why have we just not taken the Twins?" Rhaenyra let go of her husband's hand to walk toward him. Her confused expression allowed the ward to continue. "We outnumber them, we can kill the two approaching and just take it." 

"Why are you so stupid?" 

"My lad-"

"Twyin Lannister marches North," Theon looked toward Robb, who nodded in agreement with his wife. 

"Have our horses saddled and ready," Theon glared toward Rhaenyra, his eyes followed her as she walked toward Catelyn and her son. She smiled to the two, who were whispering to one another. "And what are you lot doing?" Domeric turned in his grandmother's arms and hid his face in her shoulder. 

"He is just talking about what he wants for his name day, nothing to treasonous." 

"Oh, and what has the heir wished for," Rhaenyra raised her eyebrows." 

"A horse," Catelyn smiled. "What has Robb decided?" Her voice faded as she spoke.

Rhaenyra looked down toward Henry before speaking, "He is having our horses prepared. We are going to meet the riders." Catelyn stiffened at her words.

"No." Her face tightened, her jaw locked as her eyes lit with anger. "We do not know his intentions. They can kill you, or worse send you to Tywin." Rhaenyra shifted back at her words, terrified. "I'll go." 

The tension in the war camp was thick, waiting for Lady Catelyn to return with news. Robb and Rhaenyra found comfort in a meeting tent, along with their sons. Robb sat beside Domeric on the floor, the wooden sigils of the nobel houses acting as toys for the two. Rhaenyra sat in one of the high back chairs that littered the room, Henry enjoying a meal at her breast. She watched the two from her seat, ignoring her angst and worries. 

"What's that?" Domeric questioned, his hand held up the Tully sigil. 

Robb smiled, leaning back in the grass onto his elbows. "The trout of House Tully." Domeric pointed to another, "The stag of House Baratheon." Domeric smiled, reaching to lift a dire wolf head from the ground. 

"Stark." Rhaenyra smiled in her seat, looking down to Henry who pushed from her chest. "Are we part wolf?" 

"Maybe," Robb said, taking the figure from his grasp. He turned abruptly and sat fully on the ground. Rhaenyra then heard Theon's voice ripping through their silence. 

"Robb! Rhea!" Rhaenyra adjusted the top of her dress, placing herself back into her top. She stood from her seat as Theon continued to scream. "Robb! Rhea!" Robb stood from the ground to look through the tent's opening. He waved the ward toward them. 

"What is it? Is my mother back?" Theon nodded, "Where is she?" 

"Coming," he joined the seats at the table, breathing heavily. Rhaenyra joined her husband's side and reached for Domeric's hand. 

"Come, my son, you have to go with Bella for a bit." Domeric looked back to his father, waving goodbye slowly. She rushed to their family tent, calling for guards as she did. Her son laughed as they quickly walked to their tent. With each step came a light giggle. Rhaenyra lifted the tent opening, noticing her maid unpacking their belongings. "Gods bless you, Bella." She dropped Domeric's hand and raced to place Henry on the bed. She let him lay on his belly and smiled as he lifted his head to gaze up to her. "Be good my sweet," she kissed his head and turned to Bella. "Domeric needs dinner, please read to them. And please finish unpacking, you are a blessing!" She went to leave the tent but stopped to kiss Domeric's head, she walked over his already thrown toys. "Be good for her love." Domeric mischievously smiled at his mother and watched as she left. 

In a rush, Rhaenyra ran back to the meeting tent. She ran toward the opening, nearly falling into Lord Umber as she did. Carefully, she moved around him and her eyes met Robb's. He smiled largely before speaking, "Love." He gestured to the chair he gripped tightly, she anxiously walked toward it and took her seat. "We didn't want to start without you." 

She nodded, looking around the small tent. Rhaenyra then noticed Catelyn. Her stomach knotted at the sight of her good mother. "What did he say?" 

Catelyn pursed her lips, "He has granted your crossing." Rhaenyra felt the pressure on her shoulders lift. "His men are yours as well," she pressed her hand to her lips. 

"What does he want in return," said Robb. 

Catelyn glanced between him and Robb, "You will be taking his son Olyvar as your squire. He wants him to be knighted, as well." A pause quieted the room. Rhaenyra rose from her seat, knowing this was not the extent of the Lord's request. "Bran will marry his daughter Mary." 

"And?" Rhaenyra said. 

"Domeric will marry any granddaughter you deem worthy, same for Henry, and same for any son you bare from now on." Rhaenyra gripped the table, her nails dug into the weak wood. 

"Fine," Robb said before placing a gentle hand on his wife's shoulder.


	6. Chapter 5

Rhaenyra waited beside her mother in law, standing between the barren trees of the Riverlands. She anxiously wrung her hands a she looked toward the field before her, desperately trying to hear any sound emanating from the distance. She was greeted with silence. 

Her thoughts raced as she thought of the battle occurring miles away. She shut her eyes at the thought of Robb fighting alongside his men. Honorable, she thought. Rhaenyra silently muttered prayers to the old gods, begging them to keep him safe. Begging them for his return. Each prayer left her lips in a small whisper of a blessing. 

The prayers lessened as she thought of her children, the two boys confined to the tent until she returned. Rhaenyra thanked the gods for her maid who watched over her sons. She then prayed for them, for their part in the war and their recent engagements. Her heart sunk at the thought of their marriages, but it was a necessity for their triumph. 

Then, the sounds of horses hooves could be heard. Rhaenyra's eyes clouded with tears as she desperately searched the tree line across the fading field. She found her father riding toward her, arrogantly covered in blood. Her eyes shifted over the familiar Lords, hoping to find her husband. Her heart nearly shattered before she was greeted with the familiar figure of her husband. From her spot, she saw the dents on his armor, the mud on his face and the blood that littered his clothes. 

Rhaenyra ran down the hill, grateful she wore riding pants under her dress. She noticed Robb quickened his horse at the sight of her, a smile spreading across his cheeks. Both rushed toward each other. 

Rhaenyra nearly pulled him off his horse to kiss him in a desperate embrace. Her lips crashed against his as her hand tangled itself in his hair. She pulled him closer to her by the collar of his breastplate, he was almost falling off his saddle. "I had never been so terrified in my life."

Robb sat higher on his saddle, looking down to her as he spoke. "I am here, love." His gloved hand rubbed against the crown of her head before he kicked the sides of his horse once more. Rhaenyra walked beside him, slowly edging up the hill with him. 

Rhaenyra smiled as Robb hoped of his horse. He brought her to him once more, deeply kissing her as he did. She smiled into it, blessed to have him safe beside her. The two separated at the sound of rushed horses. Robb turned to greet his mother eagerly, Rhaenyra curiously watched as men holding her house's banners rode closer. There were two men on a horse, an odd sight. Perhaps one is injured, she thought. From the distance she could see one of the men was Theon, she saw his face harden as he spoke foully to the other men. She wondered why then realized the one tied in the back of the others' horse was a Lannister soldier. Her eyes noticed the shimmer of his red and golden armor, the lion's head on each shoulder shone underneath the sun. 

"My Lord, my Lady!" Screamed Theon as he rode up the hill. "The Kingslayer." Rhaenyra's heart raced as the other man threw Jaime Lannister at her feet. 

Robb walked around her, gesturing for Theon to sit him up. "By the time they knew what was happening, it had already happened." Rhaenyra's eyes met the Kingslayer's, his green eyes burned back. She moved back as a smile spread on his face. 

"Lady Stark, I'd offer you my sword, but I seem to have lost it." She held back the urge to strike him. 

"It is not your sword I want Kingslayer, give me my sisters back. My father by law back." Theon held the Lannister's golden hair tighter. But the smile never left his face as he watched Rhaenyra. 

Jaime laughed, "I'm afraid I lost them too." 

"Kill him, Robb," spoke Theon. "Kill him. Send his head to his father. He cut down ten of our men. You saw him." Rhaenyra shook her head to him, hoping her husband would agree. 

Robb looked up from his prisoner, "He's more useful to us alive than dead." 

Rhaenyra walked toward their new prisoner, crouching before him. "Put him in chains. Let him sit in his own piss and shit, let him suffer." 

"We could end this war right now, boy, save thousands of lives. You fight for the Starks, I fight for the Lannisters. Swords or lances, teeth, nails. Choose your weapons and let's end this here and now." 

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and looked down to her dress, she ripped a thick piece of fabric from the ends littered with dirt. Theon continued to grip Jaime's hair while Rhaenyra pulled his jaw down to stuff the fabric into his mouth. "No more foolish comments from you," she stood up to join her husband's side. "Take it out once he is in his irons." Theon nodded to her. 

That night, Rhaenyra and Robb laid together on their bed, limbs entangled. It was bliss, with Furs tossed against their legs, hair wildly disheveled. They tenderly gazed at each other as both would whisper, "I love you." Their children were off with his mother, gods bless her. 

Robb's head rested between his wife's breast as he listened to her gently hum. Rhaenyra's nails trailed up and down his bareback. His eyes closed at the soothing gesture. "On to sack Tywin's men?" 

"Yes," he lifted his head to rest his chin against her chest. "Then to King's Landing. Hopefully, my aunt, Lysa will join us, but I am doubtful." Rhaenyra pushed his curls away from his forehead, giggling as they fell back into place. 

"Maybe the Tyrells will," her head fell back onto her pillow. 

"They're supporting Renly. Mace's daughter is his new queen."

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, "False queen." Robb adjusted himself onto his forearms, he gazed down at her. "The Tyrells only support Renly because of Loras."

"Aye," he rolled onto his side of the bed, bouncing against his pillow. "But if something happens to Renly where will they go?"

"Stannis, or worse Joffrey."

"Not to us?"

"Perhaps some will," she turned onto her shoulder to speak to him. "My father promised me to Loras once." Robb turned to her abruptly, a shocked look on his face. "I was nine at the time and Loras was sweet, older, and about to be knighted. He was gorgeous too."

"Careful," he teased.

Rhaenyra laughed, "We wrote to each other until our engagement was announced. We both believed we would be loyal friends but I am afraid we're enemies."


	7. Chapter 6

Rhaenyra quickly walked through the war camp, ignoring as soldiers nodded and offered her sympathetic glances. She tightened the tie against her waist as she rushed to the edge of the camp. The sound of a sword slashing against a tree caused her to quicken her pace. Rhaenyra's stomach knotted as the harsh sounds increased.

Her eyes clouded as she saw her husband. His back was turned as he struck a tree with his sword. "Robb," he did not turn. "Robb!" Her voice croaked as she cried out. "You've ruined your sword! Stop!" Rhaenyra ran to him as the weapon fell to the ground, he quickly turned. Her heart shattered as her eyes met his.

She had only seen Robb cry twice before when their children were born. The tears he shed were joyful as he held his new children in his arms. The tears he cried before her now were sorrowful, a horrible sight that broke her heart. Rhaenyra felt helpless, the only thing she could do was wrap her arms around him.

Robb's head fell into her shoulder, his body shook with each sob. She rested her hand against his head as she attempted to soothe him in any way. "I'll kill them. I'll kill every one of them."

"You will avenge your father." She continued to console him, letting him cry against her. Her heart broke with each cry.

The Northerners had a mock funeral for Lord Eddard Stark. The high lords demanded to eat outside, rather than a tent. Insisting the coolness of the night's air reminded them of home. Each ate and sang in honor of the dead Lord, attempting to tell honorable stories of him only for the present Starks to silently cry in their seats.

The feast did not last. Lord and Lady Stark numbly sat beside each other as their bannermen spoke of who would they bend the knee to. Rhaenyra's gloved hand gripped Robb's as the two gazed toward the bickering men. She caught her father's cold eyes and quickly looked away as he stood to speak.

"The proper course is clear - pledge fealty to King Renly and move south to join our forces with his," Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at her father's preference and his sick hope for a Tyrell alliance.

Robb's grip on her hand tightened, "Renly is not the king."

"You cannot mean to hold to Joffrey, my lord. He put your father to death!"Shouts of agreement erupted from the other men. Rhaenyra released Robb's hand, itching below the table to pet Grey Wind. She needed the reassurance of the wolf's presence.

" That doesn't make Renly king. He's Robert's youngest brother. Bran can't be Lord of Winterfell before me, Renly can't be king before Stannis."

Roose's gaze fell to the floor, "Will you declare for Stannis?"

Rhaenyra sighed as arguing began with her father's question. She pulled her hand away from her wolf as the shouts grew louder. Grey Wind placed his head onto her lap, she smiled and rubbed at his snout.

"My lords!" Screamed Greatjon Umber. Rhaenyra pinched the bridge of her nose as he rose from his seat. " My Lords! Here is what l say to these two kings." He spat onto the floor and the Northerners around him hollered in agreement. "Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis neither. Why should they rule over me and mine from some flowery seat in the South? What do they know of the Wall or the Wolfswood? Even their gods are wrong!" Rhaenyra held back a laugh at his comment. "Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again? lt was the dragons we bowed to and now the dragons are dead! There sits the only king l mean to bend my knee to - the King in the North!" Rhaenyra's eyes widened as Lord Umber drew his sword, digging the weapon into the dirt and falling to his knees. She stood from her seat, Robb joining her.

Her eyes shifted to Lord Karstark as he spoke, "I'll have peace on those terms. They can keep their Red Castle and their iron chair too." He too drew his sword, joining Lord Umber on his knees. "The King in the North!"

Rhaenyra's hand reached for Robb's, he gripped back as Theon stood before Lord Umber and Karstark. "Am l your brother, now and always?"

"Now and always," said Robb.

Theon dug his sword into the ground, eyes never leaving Robb and Rhaenyra. "My sword is yours in victory and defeat, from this day until my last day. My King and Queen." Rhaenyra looked to the three men who bent the knee to her and her husband. She was speechless at their dedication to the North.

"The King in the North!" Shouted Lord Umber as he rose from the ground. The other Lord's joined in his chant. Rhaenyra turned to Robb, smiling as the same words left her lips.

Silently, Rhaenyra made way toward her tent, her head held high. The Queen in the North, repeated in her head. Her indifference to her title had not settled, her children's new titles seeming more odd. She smiled at the sight of her new home in the distance but was stopped at her father's voice screaming for her.

"Your grace!" Rhaenyra stopped walking, she turned to face him. It was the first time being referred to as a royal, her heart swelled.

"Yes, father."

"Congratulations daughter." He tightly hugged her, she wrapped her arms around him. The familiar coldness he emanated soothing her anxiousness."Your sons," he paused. "I wish to see them tomorrow. To show them my congratulations as well as to tell them of their Bolton lineage."

"Did you just plan this?"

"I simply want to spend time with the princes," he said.

Rhaenyra turned back toward the direction of her tent before speaking again, "Don't influence them too much father."

"Yes, your grace." She ignored his words and slowly walked toward her tent. Rhaenyra smiled, seeing Catelyn sew in a chair close to the bed. Her children were asleep.

"Thank you for watching them, Cat," her good mother nodded. "How are you?"

"As good as expected." Rhaenyra noticed the tear stains on her cheeks, "How is he?"

"Better," she sat beside Domeric and gently caressed his head as she watched him sleep. "Did you hear the shouts?"

Catelyn nodded, "They do struggle at being quiet." She lightly laughed before dropping her sewing to her lap. "How do you feel about being queen?"

"Worried."


	8. Chapter 7

The Riverland's green hills and lush waters were unmatched, their marvelous beauty unmatched. The uniqueness and tranquility they emanated soothed easily, Rhaenyra was grateful to be able to see such grace with her own eyes. But the green hills and clear waters were no match to her beloved North, her country. With each passing day, the more she missed her home. The snow, the castle, the Godswood, everything. She was stuck in the south, all for liberation and for her good-sisters who were hopefully safe.

Her bitterness for the south grew when the beautiful Riverlands would be drenched with rain. Rhaenyra wondered if this rain rivaled that of the Stormlands, seeing every tent would nearly concave because of the water. She was a Northerner, being reminded of this with each storm. She welcomed the snow and cursed the rains. 

Rhaenyra was reminded of her hate for rain as she sat in her tent, listening to the fading drops fall against the top. She sat with her father and children, watching his failed attempts at connecting with the boys. 

"What do you know of House Bolton, Domeric? " Her father spoke calmly to his grandson. Domeric would fearfully look to the man he hardly knew, nervously glancing at his mother before answering each time. The small heir sat between them with his toys scattered around. 

"It is mama's house," he whispered. He sat straighter in his spot on the floor, turning to his mother and smiling. Rhaenyra nodded in encouragement. 

"Yes, making it your house as well," said Roose leaned back into his chair. Rhaenyra watched as her father reached into his cloak, quickly searching into his pockets. "I have a gift for the young princes," his eyes shifted to Henry who comfortable nestled into his mother's side. "Here," Domeric slowly reached for the parcel. Rhaenyra held her tongue as she watched him opened the red parcel, revealing to sigils of her past house. 

They were two silver broaches, meant to hold one's cloaks. Simple pieces that any member of House Bolton would be proud to wear. But her children were Starks. Rhaenyra mindlessly told her son to tell his grandfather thank you. Roose's face beamed at the thanks. Her stomach knotted at his clear satisfaction, his sick hope of having a Bolton influence on the future Northern King. 

"Wonderful gifts aren't they, Domeric. Now go with Bella to get ready for bed, I won't be too long." Rhaenyra shifted in her chair to see the woman who hid against the walls of her tent, she motioned to her child who obediently followed her commands. Reluctantly, she adjusted Henry in her arms and met the gaze of her father. "How do you fare?" 

"Well." His cold blue eyes scanned over her, stopping as they reached Henry. Rhaenyra's grip tightened on her child. "And you, your grace? How are you?"

She sighed, joining him in gazing down at her child. Henry sat on her lap, facing her as he slowly traced the detailing on her dress. His fingers would edge over the swirls on her collar and edge to the dire wolf necklace on her neck. In fascination, he would gently pull her necklace before beginning again. 

"I'm fine." Rhaenyra looked up, noticing her father's eyes never left her son. 

"No, you are not. Don't lie to me." 

She pursed her lips before answering, "I'm scared." 

"Why?" 

Rhaenyra rose from her seat, hand moving to support Henry's back as she did. His hands remained on her necklace. "Because," she paused. "Because I was never prepared for this. I was groomed to be a wife of a high lord. A lady. Here I am being the bloody queen of the fucking North." She turned back seeing if Domeric noticed shouted whispers. "I was never ready for this. I was never ready to go to war." 

"You were born to be queen," her father cooly said. "I raised you to be ready." He sat back in his seat, watching her unfold. 

"You did noth-" Rhaenyra stopped at the rustle of the tent opening. She rolled her eyes as her father stood from his seat.

"My king," he bowed his head as Robb entered. Rhaenyra smiled as Grey Wind stalked in, eagerly running in the direction of the bed. 

"Thank you for keeping my wife company, Lord Bolton." 

Roose nodded again, "Of course. I will take my leave." He bowed to the two, never turning his back on either. Rhaenyra scowled to him, walking closer to her husband. "Your grace, your grace," with that he left the two. 

"Thank the gods he's gone," Rhaenyra sighed as she loosened her arms around her child, allowing Robb to take him from her embrace. 

He lowly laughed, "That awful?" She nodded, "Well, we have things to discuss." He smiled to Henry who he held close to his chest, the child bashfully hid his head against his father. Rhaenyra giggled, watching him talk quietly to their son in a high pitched voice. "Are you tired, Henry? Are you sleepy?" Robb's blue eyes met hers, "Don't laugh."

"Why not? I wonder what the high lord's would think, the king having a soft spot for his child." She gently reached toward him, snaking her arm around his. "You, have heart my love and it shows." 

Rhaenyra returned to her seat as Robb retreated to their mock bedroom. Her nails dug into the arms of the chair. She closed her eyes as she listened to her husband whisper to their children. Her palms began to sweat, she pulled her hands away from the chair to flex her fingers. She looked down to her hands, pulling at the rings that adorned every other digit. Rhaenyra sighed as she tried to pull each off but they struggled to slide off the knuckle. 

"Wine, my queen?" Bella's voice soothingly asked. She turned to see the young girl holding two chalices and a jug, Rhaenyra nodded. "His grace is readying Prince Henry for bed, I would like to take my leave." Rhaenyra again nodded. Bella eagerly placed the two full cups beside her on the unstable table. 

Rhaenyra lifted the cup, swallowing its contents in two gulps. She closed her eyes again, hearing Robb shuffling behind the modesty curtain. She focused on his movements, noticing once he walked closer to her. 

"Love," she opened her eyes. "My mother is off to see Renly Baratheon. She leaves at daybreak." Rhaenyra sighed, offering him his chalice as he sat. Robb gripped the cup as he drank, eyes never leaving hers. 

"Anything from the Kingslayer?" He shook his head. "I find your interrogation tactics useless, I will speak to him."

"No." 

"Yes."

"You will not, as your husband and king I refuse to allow you to."

"Why? I will just get answers from him, in a more convincing way than you." Robb rolled his eyes as he filled their cups. "I shall take Grey Wind with me," Rhaenyra reached for her chalice as Robb tensed. "Let me contribute this war in some way, please," she whispered. 

Robb drank from his cup before speaking. His lips pursed into a tight line as he said, "Fine."

Moments later, Rhaenyra left her family to quickly walk to the cages at the edge of the camp. She tightened her cape against her body as she watched Grey Wind trot before her. She lifted her dark hood over her head as the rain around her began to mist. She smiled as the coolness of the air as it brushed against her cheeks. The cold soothing her anxiousness. 

Rhaenyra noticed Grey Wind slowed his walk, he curiously looked back to her. She turned, noticing the camp's ever-fading tents. Her hand scratched against his head as she reached him. She calmly walked to the guards of the mock dungeons. "I am here to see the Kingslayer." 

"Prisoners are not allowed to have visits from whores," one said.

"Wha-" her eyes looked past the two, attempting to see the cages. 

"You heard him, go!" Rhaenyra turned to the other, pushing her hood down as she did. His hand roughly pushed against her shoulder, she stumbled back. 

Her hand returned to Grey Wind, "I am here to see the Kingslayer." Her wolf's growls grew louder, both took noticed to the large animal at her side. 

"NO whores," the first guard paused. His eyes widened as he bowed his head to her, "My lady queen. Many pardons, it has been hours since I've rested, I." Rhaenyra rose her hand to shut him up. 

"I don't want apologies. May I see the Kingslayer, I have been standing here for several moments now begging." 

The guard eagerly nodded, " I apologize yes of course go, he's in the largest cage. He is bound and in irons as you requested." 

Rhaenyra scowled as she walked away. She walked with heavy steps to the largest steps, her boots struggled to step through the mud and shit that littered the ground. She disgustingly looked down noticing her boots were nearly submerged in the muddy ground. Rhaenyra lifted her skirts and continued, her ears picked up an odd noise. It was a low hum. 

She reached for her dire wolf as her eyes found the charming blonde man, bound to a post in a large cage. She made a note to make it smaller. 

Her hand slowly pulled the key from the lock on the door. Green eyes immediately snapped in her direction. "Lady Stark."

"That is not my title."

"You do not expect me to call you My Queen do you?" She exhaled through her nose as she entered his confines. "If I knew you were coming I would have tidied up." He shifted in his chains, scratching his back against the post. Rhaenyra ignored the horrid sound of his thin shirt made against the scratchy post. 

"I am not here for jokes, Kingslayer." 

"Then what," he smiled to her, that sick feeling returned to her. 

She walked closer to him, standing between him and her wolf. She knelt before him, "My husband has warned you about the rumors. I shouldn't call them rumors." He showed no emotion as he looked back to her, she reached to the belt at her waist to pull her dagger from its sheath. "Your bastard sits on the iron throne, he is a true Lannister through and through. A golden lion just like you." 

"You do have awful interrogation skills pretty wolf," The tip of Rhaenyra's dagger embedded into his upper arm. 

"You attempted to kill my brother by law did you not?" The Lannister looked down where the knife pressed, blood seeped from the whole as she twisted it further in. "Answer the question or I slice you instead." Rhaenyra pulled her arm back, preparing to press it against his thigh. She leaned closer to him, "Answer." He turned back to her, spitting on her face. She stabbed his thigh, ignoring his shout of pain. "I told you. Did I not?" She stood from her spot on the floor, "My husband is more merciful than me, he sees you as a pawn in this war. But as long as you are alive I can do whatever I please with you. As long as your heart keeps beating.'' The Kingslayer attempted to extend his leg to ease his pain. "My blade is thin enough to go between your top layer of skin and the tissue below. My father always told me a naked man has few secrets a flayed man has none. I am willing to test that. Or shall I embrace the wolf in me and let Grey Wind feed off your meats?" She returned back to the entrance of the gates and gently pushed her wolf forward, Grey Wind eagerly ran to the bound man. Rhaenyra returned her blade into its sheath at the sound of her wolf's growls. He waited for her command to eat. 

" Fine! I did, I pushed him!" He screamed over Grey Wind's growls and barks. 

"Come Grey Wind!" She closed the door to his cage, "That was all I needed Ser Jaime, thank you for cooperating. Now my husband will know how to deal with you." Rhaenyra smiled to him through the bars of his cage.


	9. Chapter 8

Rhaenyra sat alone in her tent, thankful for her maid had stolen her children away. Bella insisted she would distract the boys with a trip to a near by river. Rhaenyra was grateful for her small gesture.

She thought sowing would ease her mind, but the amounts of pricks against her fingers became overly irritating. Rhaenyra tossed the torn dress to the floor and angrily fell back onto the bed. The palms of her hands pressed into her eyes as she steadily breathed. Rhaenyra threw her arms against the mattress quickly and thrashed her legs beneath the sheets, appearing as a child throwing a tantrum. Rhaenyra pulled the pillow beside her to place it over her head, she roughly screamed into.

Leaving the pillow over her face, turned to lay on her side. Rhaenyra hated the lack of distraction, she could not focus on anything other than her husband fighting miles away. She threw the pillow back to her side, sighing to herself.

Rhaenyra had been married to Robb for three years, the wonderful years. She proudly loved him with all her being, honorably carrying the Stark name for him. She bore his children, nursed them at her own breast. Rhaenyra accepted the burden of a crown for him. Everything he did she did not question. But, Rhaenyra hated the things that bound him to honor. She hated the war, hated every man that fought against her husband for the incest king. She despised the thought of him returning injured, detested the idea of him being killed.

Rhaenyra vowed, whoever murdered her husband would suffer. She would burn whatever house was responsible, kill each heir and make them pay. Her love for him was too great, if he died she would need justices in her grief. She would happily stick a knife through a man for Robb, and for her children.

Oh, my sons, she thought. Rhaenyra smiled at the thought of the two Stark boys. She loved them to no extent, watching them grow was a blessing she never believed she would be honored with. Domeric was growing into the fearless heir he needed to be, his features mimicking his father's. Henry was showing to be a quiet boy, she was anxious to see his personality grow. The baby was pure Stark, mirroring Arya in nearly every way and contrasting his brother's Tully looks uniquely. Each day, her heart broke at the thought of them growing up fatherless. Or worse, having the intense influence of her father.

She sat up once more, letting the sheets fall from her person. Rhaenyra pushed her hair from her face, letting her fingers slide through to the shortened ends. Feeling grateful for her solitude, she pushed herself from bed. She did not feel the need to dress, she simply lifted Robb's discarded cloak over her shoulders. Rhaenyra smelt the cloak, smiling at the smell of him. She lifted a book from the unstable table before sitting in the wicker chairs.

It was an awful book discussing the history of Riverrun, a continuous repetition of her mother in law's ancestors. She sat it down and tightened the cloak around her body. There were shouts outside the tent, she stood to open the entrance.

"The King in the North!" Was shouted over and over. They began chanting a new name as Rhaenyra's eyes met the lifeless body of her husband. "The young wolf!" They held him above the crowd, blood seeped from under his armor and flowed onto the arms of those carrying him.

Rhaenyra ran to the crowd, hearing Lord Umber's harsh voice. "Out of the way, out of the way!" He pushed men away, leading the way to the Maester's tent. She hit the back of the crowd, screaming. She could not hear her own words over the continuous chants. Her hands hit against the men, trying to make way through the crowd. Rhaenyra followed the men carrying her husband, she continued to scream until a hand pulled her through the lines of soldiers. It was her father. The chants quickly changed.

"The Queen in the North!" The words blended in with the shouts of, "The Pretty Wolf!" Rhaenyra held onto her father, nails digging into his tunic as he dragged her beside him. Her eyes dropped to the floor to see her husband's blood staining the grass and mud.

Rhaenyra's vision began to cloud as they reached the Maester's tent. She was held back, "You are not to go in there!" Her father pulled her towards him at her shoulder.

"Let go of me! He needs me!" Her nails dug into the hand that clutched at her.

"Rhaenyra!" Roose's grip did not weaken. "You will stay here! You do not need to see what they will do to him!" She turned, shoving him away.

"I am your queen! He is your king, my husband! Do not attempt to keep me away, Lord Bolton." With that, she entered the tent.

Her husband laid on the examination table in his full armor. She held her hand to her mouth at the sight of an arrow sticking from his waist. Rhaenyra pushed past the Lord's who insisted on watching the Maester, moving to fall beside him. With shaky hands she reached for his still hand, bringing it to her lips.

"Your grace, you should not be here."

"I have every right to, ignore me Maester Wolkan and do your job and keep the king alive." She spoke through gritted teeth. Her eyes darkened as they scanned the room, looking over the faces of each Lord. "You will be so smart to leave, my lords." Each trickled away at her command. Her ears picked up the sound of Grey Wind growling below the exam table, she felt at ease with his presence.

With Robb's hand in hers, she began to pray. Rhaenyra ignored Maester Wolkan moving about the tent searching for the necessary tools to remove the arrow. "My queen," she continued to pray. "Pardon, but my queen. I am going to remove the arrow from his grace's person. Please be prepared."

"I have killed men with my own hands, I have seen blood. Please, I beg, heal him." With a nod, the Maester placed his a hand on Robb's shoulder, the other cracked the end of the arrow easily.

He pursed his lips, turning to Rhaenyra. "I'm afraid the arrow's head is embedded in his grace's body. I need to," he paused noticing her grip tighten on her husband's hand. "I need to either push it through, which has a greater risk, or pull it out."

Rhaenyra stood from the ground, reaching over to rip the thin shirt the lord's stupidly left on her husband."Go on then." Maester Wolkan gripped the wooden arrow and twisted. The stilled hand Rhaenyra lovingly held tightened around hers. She turned to her husband as his face contorted in pain, he screamed. "Robb, love. It's alright." Another scream, another twist. He squeezed her hands, his legs pushed against the table as he continued to cry. "It's alright love." Rhaenyra's violet eyes glanced at the wound, the arrowhead pressed against the surface of his skin waiting to rip. "It's alright," she felt idiotic saying something so simple, it lacked reassurance. The arrowhead ripped Robb's skin, Maester Wolkan quickly pressed linen to the wound. Robb shook from the pain, his skin glistened from sweat. His grip on his wife never ceased.

"My queen," spoke Maester Wolkan. "Hold this, tightly. I must get him milk of the poppy." With shaky hands, she pressed on the wound. Robb's hazy eyes met hers.

"Hello love," he smiled. Rhaenyra pressed down tighter before whispering back.

"Hi, my sweet." Her heart broke at the hoarseness of his voice, the thought of him needing the milk of the poppy pained her. It was a sign of death. Her mother drank it in her final hours. But, she refused to believe Robb would die.

It will take more than an arrow to kill the young wolf, she thought.


	10. Chapter 9

Rhaenyra watched over her husband through the night, refusing to let Maester Wolkan touch him any longer. She tended to him, nursing his wound each hour to ensure there was no rot. Robb would wake for moments, speak briefly before falling back to sleep. She would offer him water or a bit of healing herbs before the high of the milk of the poppy would return. Rhaenyra would watch as he slept, refusing to close her eyes in fear he would need her. 

She cried beside him, drained from the emotional turmoil and lack of sleep. Her mind slowed as the night faded into the early morning. Rhaenyra lifted his Robb's arm to apply a new layer of salve. She was thankful the bleeding had stopped. 

Her hands shook as she lifted his arm to wrap fresh linen around the wound. The exit wound was jagged, she prayed it did not get infected. 

"Rhea?" Robb's voice mumbled. She delicately placed him against the exam table. 

"Robb," Rhaenyra gripped his hand, bringing it to her lips. "How are you, my sweet?" 

"Hurting," he laughed lowly before his face twisted. "I shouldn't jest." His hand reached to the linens against his side, fingers gently grazing them. "Gods. I don't remember much. I was yelling for Grey Wind and then an arrow sticking from my waist. I kept fighting. Then I fell, it seemed easier to sleep." Robb turned to her, "I felt myself fading, but it stopped after I heard your loud voice over all the Northmen's chants." 

Rhaenyra whipped a tear from her cheek with her freed hand. She leaned over him and placed her lips over his in a hungry kiss. "You terrified me." Robb's hand gripped the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss. She pulled away, "I hate the thought of having to live without you." 

She felt his lips smile against hers, "From this day until the end of my days." Rhaenyra giggled as he pulled her atop him, she cautiously straddled his waist before leaning down once more. 

Rhaenyra left the tent several moments later. She walked to her own tent as the men around her nodded, whispering, "My queen." Her heart raced at the sight of her family's tent, an odd sense of worry washing over her. 

"Mama!" Domeric screamed at the sight of her. He rushed to her, wrapping his arms around her quickly. She nearly fell over from the impact of his run. "Is daddy alright?" Rhaenyra pushed his hair from his eyes. 

"You have to ask him that yourself," his eyes brightened at her words and he returned to his spot on the floor once more. Rhaenyra turned at the sound of Henry attempting to call for her. Her maid held him tightly, she walked toward the young girl desperately needing to hold her child. "Henry, my sweet boy look at you," she turned to Bella who patiently stood before her. "How were they?"

"The princes were a blessing. Lord Bolton placed his men outside the tent to guard, he himself shared kind words with your sons." She smiled brightly before continuing, "The princes were oblivious on the extent of his grace's injury, as requested." 

Rhaenyra nodded, adjusting Henry against her hip. "Good. Well, let us get ready for the day shall we." She dismissed Bella after the maid assisted in dressing her. Rhaenyra insisted she would watch over her children for the remainder of the day. 

She walked slowly behind Domeric, watching as he excitedly skipped in the direction toward the Maester's tent. Her heart swelled at the sight. Rhaenyra tightened her grip on Henry as she followed, "Not so fast, Domeric." His blue eyes mischievously glanced back, he ignored her and continued to run through the camp. "I hope you mind me," she whispered to Henry. 

Rhaenyra lifted her skirts in attempts to quickly follow her child, shaking her head lightly as she did. She laughed lightly seeing Domeric slowly walk toward her, "I don't know where to go." She held her hand out for him, he eagerly grabbed it. Domeric smiled as he brought her hand close to his eye. With his other hand, he traced her obsidian ring with his finger. Domeric retracted it quickly at the shard's sharpness. "Why do you wear so much jewelry?" He shifted her hand to trace the dire wolf ring that rested on her index finger. His mother simply shrugged as she continued to walk through the camp. 

At the sight of Maester Wolkan exiting his tent, Domeric dropped her hand to run quickly through its entrance. Rhaenyra laughed and quickly followed. Her tensed shoulders fell at the sound of Robb's excited exclaim of, "My boy!" He had been moved from the exam table to a decent bed. He gently pulled the covers over his bandages as Domeric ran toward the bed. 

"Are you dying? Everyone said you're dying." Rhaenyra's heart broke at the sound of her son's voice. 

Robb shook his head, a smile on his face. "No my beautiful boy. Now come tell me what you've done without me." His eyes met Rhaenyra's he cocked his head motioning her to join them. She sat at the edge of the bed, allowing Henry to crawl over each of them as he pleased. Rhaenyra happily watched Domeric explain his day to his father and smiled at Robb's overly interested expression. She was purely content with the moment. "Domeric, why don't you play with Grey Wind? I need to speak with mummy for a bit," Rhaenyra's eyes shifted to the wolf who obediently laid beneath the exam table, his head lifted at the mention of his name. 

Domeric sighed before pushing himself from the bed. He happily curled against Grey Wind and began to pull at the wolf's ears. Rhaenyra smiled before turning back to Robb. She watched as he attempted to sit up, he hissed and pressed his hand against his side. "Here," she stood from the bed, lifting Henry into one arm and offering him the other. Rhaenyra pulled up his upper body for him to sit. 

"Thank you," his eyes glanced at Henry. She pursed her lips and gently passed him the child, he beamed as the baby comfortably leaned against him. "How did you know?"

"He's truly a remedy for all sorts of ailments. You merely looked at him so I assumed." She giggled, falling back to her previous spot. "What did we need to discuss so desperately that you forced our son to play with the wolf?" The two turned to watch Domeric who now spoke to Grey Wind, hoping he would continue the conversation. 

Robb sighed, "I've sent Theon to Pyke." 

Rhaenyra's eyes widened, "You thought that wise? Did you consult with anyone?" Her eyes bore into his as worry settled into her mind. 

"Yes, but we need ships if we are going to sack the Capital. Balon," she interrupted him quickly. 

"He will see this as his opportunity to revolt. He won't join us. His words will manipulate Theon easily. And you know that to be true," she whispered harshly to him, leaning in with each truthful word. 

Robb closed his eyes before speaking. "I trust him. He is my brother in all but blood."

"His father does not see that. I am sorry my love but this is a foolish decision. I pray we have enough men in case the Iron Born wish to attack us."


	11. Chapter 10

Rhaenyra pushed herself from the warm bed, upset she needed to start the day. She sat up, turning to see her sleeping family beside her. Domeric nestled himself into his father's side in attempts to seek warmth, Robb protectively wrapped his arm around his son. Henry slept beside his brother, spread between him and their mother. Rhaenyra nearly fell off the bed most nights in fear she would roll onto him in her sleep. She turned to rest her hand on his small chest, needed the reassurance of his steady breaths. Slowly she stood from the comfortable furs and linens. Her face twisted as her bare feet met the moist grace and dirt. Rhaenyra moved to place her pillow beside her child in hopes he would not roll to the ground.

She had given Bella a much-needed rest, no doubt the young girl was being wooed by some solider even in the early hours. Rhaenyra shook her head, walking to the closest dresser to pull salve and bandages from its drawers. Maester Wolkan had thankfully given them to her after she insisted she would further watch over the King's wound. After a heated argument, he taught her how to properly watch over it, listing the signs of intense illness which she easily remembered.

Rhaenyra laid the supplies atop the dresser. She turned to the bed once more to see if any woke, none did. Stepping to the large trunks beside the modesty curtain, she searched through the few clean dresses she had available. Her options began to lessen into lighter shades and few pants that she questioned. She let her fingers slide through the silks and cotton, feeling pleased with a familiar texture she pulled her favorited green dress from the trunk.

It reminded her of home, of when she carried her children and would wander through the castle besides Catelyn. She missed her good mother dearly, she prayed she would return soon. The dress was loose, something that never constricted in activities which was why she grew quite fond of it.

Rhaenyra pulled a decent, clean shift from the trunk and moved behind the curtain. Quickly she changed, feeling satisfied at her lack of dependency on Bella. She pulled the flowing dress over her head, smiling as she playfully moved the skirt. Her fingers easily knotted the strings on her chest and she discarded her nightdress over the screen.

Her eyes danced over her family again, seeing her sleeping children and husband soothed her even during the time of war. She smiled and walked to put her discarded boots on. Slowly, she fell to the floor and gently sat on her bottom. Rhaenyra's face twisted at the sight of her dirty feet, she hurridly slapped the filth away. She pushed her boots on, not finding a need for stockings because they always seemed to be too constricting.

Happy with her clothing she tied her short hair back with a loose string, pieces falling immediately. Rhaenyra spoke to the guard outside her tent to send in breakfast. She sat in the horrible chairs they brought along, the wicker creaked as she pushed herself into the seat. Her face cringed as she reached to the small table before her, grabbing the scroll that was clasped together with the Bolton seal. Eagerly, Rhaenyra ripped it to read over the letter. It was Ramsay, complaining of his new duties as acting Lord. He signed the letter as her loving brother. She rolled her eyes and tossed the letter back to the small table.

Rhaenyra jumped as hands rested on her shoulders. She turned her head up to see Robb curiously watching her, "How dare you scare your wife."

He knelt down to whisper to her, "I dare." Robb gently laughed as his hands rubbed against her, "How long have you been awake?"

Rhaenyra shrugged, letting her hand rest against his, "Not too long. I requested breakfast, dressed which I take much pride in." Her voice softened as she reached to grasp her brother's letter, "I also read Ramsay's letter, gave me an uneasy feeling." She turned it in her hand seeing the small marks in the parchment, dagger marks. Rhaenyra stood from her seat to stand before him, she smiled. "May I?" Her eyes shifted over his bare torso, falling to his side. The linen clearly needed to be changed, Robb nodded and began to unwrap it from his person.

Delicately, Rhaenyra wrapped fresh linen over his side. She found the wound healing quickly and decided against the use of the salve. She smiled, bending to kiss over her husband's bandages. "Thank you, love. Let me know when breakfast arrives, I will wake our sons and hopefully dress them and myself." He kissed her cheek before departing to their mock bedroom.

Rhaenyra went to the desk where her belt had been thrown. She struggled to tighten it against her waist, angrily searching for the loops. She turned from the desk, focusing on the disgusting chairs in attempts to properly tie her belt. Perhaps she had bosted to soon on her independence from her maid. She successfully looped the belt, tying the excess into a knot. Rhaenyra grabbed her dagger from the desk to place it back into its sheath. The sound of approaching steps caused her to raise her head slightly, she shook her head before fiddling more with her belt.

"Please leave the breakfast on the table," she spoke at the sound of her tent opening. Rhaenyra turned, her breath hitched as her eyes met Catelyn's. She slowly whispered, "Cat." She ran to her good mother, embracing her. Catelyn returned her enthusiasm, squeezing her tightly. "Gods bless."

"Rhea what's goin-" Robb silenced himself at the sight of his mother. He held Henry in his arms, Rhaenyra saw his tensed shoulders drop as he quickly walked to Catelyn. "Mother." He wrapped his free arm around her and Catelyn happily hugged him. She pulled away to let her hand cress her grandson's growing hair.

"You look positively forlorn," Catelyn clasped her hands together as Robb handed his son to Rhaenyra.

"Thank you, Catelyn for your kind words." Rhaeanyra sat in the horrid chair, untying the strings at her chest to feed her child. Her eyes moved passed her good mother to see a tall blonde woman who stood against the tent's clothed walls as if she were trying to blend into them. Rhaenyra's finger traced her son's cheek as he suckled, "Who's this?"

"Oh, may I introduce Lady Brienne of Tarth. She was one of Renly's King's Gaurd."

"Was?" Questioned Robb.

"My king is dead," whispered Brienne. Rhaenyra stiffened at her words. She let her eyes gaze over the two women as Robb began to discuss his mother's visit.

Catelyn appeared well, but the look in her eye clearly changed from her time at the Baratheon camp. The little happiness her eyes held was diminished, the lines that decorated her face seemed deeper as a new worry cascaded over her. Rhaenyra even noticed Brienne, who stood behind, shared this saddened appearance. Her blue eyes were glazed even as she attempted to stand tall. It was clear she had a dire need to collapse from her heavy emotions.


	12. Chapter 11

Rhaenyra anxiously picked at a loose string on her green sleeve. She watched Robb's expression as he read over a letter from House Dustin, he threw it to the table before them to grab another. Eagerly, she read the letter herself. Her breath hitched at its words, Robb threw another letter. It was from her brother. Her heart raced at her brothers writing, she could not read over the letter from White Harbor as she knew what it entailed. Her violet eyes met her father's gaze as she tossed Ramsay's letter atop the others that rested against the table. She stood quickly, turning to Catelyn quickly before shaking her head. Rhaenyra's palms dug into the table as Robb spoke. 

"This cannot be true." His word's cut through the tension of the meeting tent. They burned through the silence causing Rhaenyra's nails to dig into the wood of the table. His hand grasped the most recent letter from White Harbor. "He's my brother."

"It is clearly true. And I am sorry husband but it appears he does not see you as kin any longer!" She screamed. "Ravens from Barrowtown, Whtie Harbor and my brother reveal the horrid truth." He uneasily watched her. His blue eyes shifted over her, clearly taking note of her hostile person. 

"Why? Why would Theon-" Robb moved his fingers through his hand as his face twisted in sadness. His composure becoming harder to obtain. 

"He's a treasonous whore!" Rhaenyra continued to allow her rage to grow. The sight of her husband nearly crying angering her. She pushed her self from the table, walking to the furthest corner of the tent. She pushed the banner displaying her house sigil out of the way as she did. 

Roose laughed lightly before agreeing, "I'm afraid my daughter his right. The Greyjoys are known for their treason." He collected the letters, handing them to Catelyn who attempted to hide her worry under a poised facade. 

"My brothers?" Rhaenyra's heart stopped at the anguish in Robb's voice. The thought of Bran and Rickon caused a lump to grow in her throat. Her eyes slowly watered, she turned her face up to not let tears fall. She rested her hands against her hips, attempting to ease her heavy breathing. Her eyes met Catelyn's, her good mother searched for reassurance in each of their faces. 

"We have not heard anything regarding the young lords. But Ser Rodrick Cassel is dead." Roose spoke with disgusting ease. Rhaenryra quietly pulled her dagger from her belt. The blade being in her hand always soothed her nerves. 

"I told you never to trust a Greyjoy!" Screamed Catelyn, she stood beside her son. Her eyes widened as she shook in anger. Rhaenyra's heart swelled in satisfaction at someone agreeing with her anger. She needed another to scream at Robb. She returned to her seat in defeat. She continued to clutch her dagger. She sighed heavily as her hands began to lightly shake, she rested her blade on her lap. 

"I must go North at once," spoke Robb hurridly. He stood from his seat, walking past his mother to only be stopped by Roose. Rhaenyra sat fully in her seat, shocked by his rash action. 

"We are still at war," she argued. Robb did not turn, his back faced her. She rested her hand against her cheek, trying to ease her emotions with the warmness of her palm. 

"How can I call myself a king if I cannot hold my own keep?" Screamed Robb. He angrily gestured as he continued, " How can I ask my men to follow me if-." He turned to Rhaenyra, a familiar anger over his face. She shuttered lightly as his cold gaze met hers. 

" You are a king. And that means you don't have to do everything yourself!" Rhaenyra gripped her dagger once more at her father's words. His tone eerily familiar, she watched as he scolded her husband. "We have the Lannisters on the run. If you march all the way back north now, you'll lose what you gained." 

"Let me go talk to Theon," said Catelyn. Her words alluding pure desperation and worry. She gripped her hands closely to her chest as she begged her son. Rhaenyra pressed her hand to her mouth as she closed her eyes. 

"There will be no talk he will die for this." Said Robb. Rhaenyra stood from her seat abruptly.

She dug her blade into the wood of the table, "You will lift the outlaw on flaying. Ramsay will deal with him, in his own way. He can raise a few hundred men and retake our home within a month. We will clean our hands of this false rebellion and request my brother to send updates on Theon's well being." Rhaenyra walked to her husband and father, she pulled Roose away and stood before Robb. "Theon holds our castle with a weak crew. Ramsay is my blood, he will deal with it. And when we return, my brother will gift us with Prince Theon's head." She spat his title before continuing, "Do you understand," she seethed. 

"You have no right-" Robb looked down to her, a cold look attempting to weaken her. She refused to let him lessen her. Her strength grew as she continued to speak. 

"I have every right. You could have called the ward back but no your weak trust cost us our home. We could have pledged fealty to Stannis, he has a felt but we went for Renly. We could have promised Domeric to his daughter." Her gaze did not shift from her husband. 

"The Freys, your grace." Her father lowly spoke. She continued to look up toward her husband. 

"Fuck the Freys." 

"Tell your son Bran and Rickon's safety is paramount. And Theon, I want him brought to me alive. I want to look him in the eye and ask him why. And then I'll take his head myself." Rhaenyra moved passed her husband to leave the confided tent. She ignored Robb's rushed steps as they followed her toward their own tent.


	13. Chapter 12

Rhaenyra refused to turn in bed to acknowledge her husband. She refused to show any interest as he began to prepare for his day. Her eyes simply stared at the edge of the tent's wall, where the sun leaked through. Her focus would intensify at the noises he made while quickly tying his armor or his occasional cuss in frustration. Rhaenyra closed her eyes as Robb wished Domeric a happy name-day, waking their son as he did. She followed the sounds of his steps as he left the tent. 

She smiled as she finally turned, facing her children. Carefully, she lifted Henry to her chest happy to see his content face. Rhaenyra reached to cress Domeric's curls to wake him for the day. He sighed and further nestled himself into the sheets. "Beautiful boy, wake up," she sang as her fingers brushed through his hair. "It's your name day." Her son quickly turned, folding his arms to support his head. Domeric mischievously glanced up to her with a smile across his cheeks. 

Rhaenyra stood from the bed, Henry in her arms. She beckoned for Domeric to follow with her palm out for him to grab. He eagerly took it and lead her to their small sitting area. Before the two horrid chairs laid multiple parcels, each delicately held together with a simple silver sigil of the house that gifted them. Rhaenyra sat in the unstable chair she despised so much, Domeric leaned against her legs on the patchy grass and dirt. 

"Silver chains. House Umber," she said as Domeric curiously lifted a gift wrapped in chains. He giggled before sliding them off. It was a simple twist top, Rhaenyra knew he would be tired of it within hours. The sound of their tent opening hardly drew their attention. Rhaenrya only lifted her head as bowls of broth were placed on the squeaky table beside her. "Good morning, Bella." 

"Bella!" Screamed Domeric, he hardly turned as he continued to open his gifts. 

Rhaenyra smiled to her maid as she took another bowl from her grasp. "Come sit with us," the maid sat beside Domeric, placing her tray on the vacant wicker chair to her side. Rhaenyra sighed as Henry began to shift against her chest. She rubbed her hand against his back to soothe him. 

Domeric continued to eagerly unwrap his gifts, he would throw clothes to Bella and leave his toys in arms reach. He beamed with each new gift and would sadly look up to his mother at the tunics she and Catelyn had sown. He did not mind the hastily carved toys, it was clear soldiers carved them out of leftover firewood. The tunics were made new, out of Robb's. Domeric was happy either way, which warmed his mother's heart. 

Rhaenyra would simply laugh at his false anger of the clothes and encourage him to open more. It had seemed every sworn bannerman had sent a gift to their young Prince. "Look," she leaned forward as Domeric turned in his spot on the floor. His blue eyes brightened as he held a wooden sigil of House Bolton. Rhaenyra attempted to return his enthusiasm. "Is it from grandfather?" 

"Most likely," she smiled. She stiffened in her seat, her hands tightened Henry's waist as she reached for his breakfast. Slowly, she offered him softened apples whish he would slowly examine before sloppily eating. "Bella," she gestured to the broth that remained on the table. The girl quickly stood to pass it to Domeric. "Thank you. Now eat your breakfast and we will go on to have a great adventure today." 

"Your grace," Bella questioned. Rhaenyra nodded, "May the Prince open my gift?" 

Rhaenyra shifted in her seat, surprised at her remark. "Of course, but after he must eat." Her eyes playfully widened as she looked to her son. Domeric smiled before searching through the few gifts that remained. Bella pointed to an unwrapped book, that had a clasp with a small river engraved. "What a fine book. What does it entail?"

"It tells the story of King Robert." Rhaenyra's actions paused slightly, her distaste for the fat king showing. 

"And you're from the Riverlands?" 

"Yes your grace." Bella looked to the floor before continuing. "My mother named me after the Battle of the Bells. She worked at the Peach." Rhaenyra blushed slightly at the mention of the famous brothel. 

She giggled, "I apologize. For my humor, it is not the mention of the Peach but my own embarrassment. I wish to learn more about your life before the war when we are both free." Rhaenyra hid her smile behind her hand that grasped a small piece of apple, Henry pulled at her wrist to bring it towards him. Rhaenyra continued to feed Henry as Bella began to read from the dreaded King Robert book. Domeric appeared interested in the story, sipping at his broth and intently watching the maid's expressions. He attempted to slowly finish his breakfast to enjoy the story, his mother took notice. "No more about the usurper. Let us get ready for the day." 

Rhaenyra stood with Henry in her arms, she gestured toward Bella to follow. The two began to dress the princes for the day, Domeric insisting on wearing his new tunic. Rhaenyra laughed as Bella attempted to flatten his hair. "Are you enjoying today?" He nodded, his abrun curls bouncing. "This is just the start. We will have a feast with the high lords and you and I will do whatever you wish." 

"Father?"

"He is," Rhaenyra paused as Domeric continued to push the maid's hand away. He scowled at her before moving to his mother who attempted to dress his wiggly brother. "He is planning everything we need for today." The lie slid off her tongue too well. 

Domeric smiled and turned back to Bella. He watched her pick an outfit for his mother, "Why is my name day so far from my birthday?"

Rhaenyra laughed, "Because we needed to plan your celebration."

"Why?"

Bella laughed, dresses and coats in her arms. "The little prince has so many questions."

Rhaenyra nodded and answered her son, "Because you are the heir to the north my beautiful boy." Domeric's face twisted in confusion. 

"I wish I remembered it."

"It must have been, my prince. All the men of my homelands spoke of it. Even your Uncle Edmure." Rhaenyra cringed at the thought of Edmure Tully, his clumsy person, and anxiousness grossly reminded her of his drunkness at the feast. She giggled at the thought of him, the Floppy Fish melody ringing through her mind. 

"Oh the thought of Edmure being at the Peach really turns your stomach doesn't it," the two women laughed as Domeric looked between the two. Rhaenyra sat Henry up beside her at the sound of the tent opening. Her heart quickened at the thought of Robb returning, but her spirts broke as the footsteps became clear. "Cat!" 

"Grandmother!" Domeric screamed and ran passed the modesty curtain. Rhaenyra heard her good mother enthusiastically greet him. The two entered the mock bedroom. "Have you brought me gifts?" 

"Of course! Books, toys, and clothes all for you." 

Rhaenyra smiled at their interaction, "Bella take my sons to the creek. Read to them, please. Lady Stark will dress me." The maid laid her clothes on the bed before lifting Henry from her embrace, she grabbed Domeric's hand before leaving the sleeping quarters. Rhaenyra turned to her good mother, "I simply wish to have a few moments alone with you." 

Catelyn smirked, "Brienne is waiting. I was going to ask for your permission to invite her in, but if you-" 

Rhaenyra interrupted, "No invite her in."


	14. Chapter 13

Catelyn whispered to Rhaenyra as she assisted in dressing her. Each was kind words she needed. The two would cess their comments as their eyes turned to Brienne of Tarth. Rhaenyra admired her protective stance, she exuded knighthood. The sexist rule of knights was horrid, from what she knew Brienne was a stronger fighter than the dishonorable knights she's met. Her thoughts quickly drifted to the Kingslayer. 

She turned toward Brienne, who stood against the tent's wall. She wore a simple tunic and skirt, it hung awkwardly on her body. Her slim hand laid against her sword that rested against her waist. The sadness in her eyes was still present. 

Rhaenyra giggled as Brienne attempted to avert her gaze as Catelyn began to tie her corset. Brienne's face was flushed. "My lady," she did not turn. "I heard you beat Loras Tyrell in single combat." 

"Yes, your grace." 

Rhaenyra heaved as Catelyn pulled her corset. She scowled at her good mother, "Very commendable. He is one of the strongest knights of Westeros. You threw him to the dirt."

"Thank you, your grace." 

Rhaenyra heaved as her mother in law abruptly pulled the strings tightly. She rolled her eyes, "You're trying to break me aren't you?" Catelyn laughed lightly before tightening the strings more. "You're very determined Lady Brienne," she rested her hands against her waist to ease the pressure forced against it. "Lady Stark speaks of your admirable loyalty constantly." Catelyn finished tying the constricting undergarment and Rhaenyra walked to the bed. She reached for her dress, pulling it over her person. "I have a proposition for you," her voice was muffled by the fabric. She pushed her head through to finally meet Brienne's gaze. 

"Your grace?"

"The loyalty you offered your king, I accept the same." Rhaenyra sat on the bed, pushing her fingers through her shortened hair as she did. Catelyn turned to the dresser behind her to retrieve a brush. She slapped Rhaenyra's hands away and began to comb her hair. Rhaenyra childishly rolled her eyes before turning back to Brienne, "I would like you to guard my sons, the Princes of the North." 

Brienne's eyes widened, "Your grace," Rhaenyra interrupted. 

"I find myself not being able to protect them at all times. I find Lady Stark's trust in you to be commendable." Brienne stood straighter at her words, "Please, my Lady." Her desperation was evident in her words. "I will offer you protection. Any many who harms you, disrespect you in any way will be reprimanded. I swear." She pushed Catelyn's hands away and stood from the bed. Rhaenyra clasped her hands together, attempting to hide her distress with her composure. "Please." 

Brienne nodded, smiling at Rhaenyra. "I shall guard the Stark children." 

Hours later, Rhaenyra sat uncomfortably beside Robb. The Northern Lords had insisted once again on a feast outside, yearning for the coolness of the Riverland's nights. Domeric was hidden amongst the horde, enjoying the attention of his grandfather or grandmother. He had taken an interesting infatuation with his new guard. The child lovingly called her Ser Brienne. Henry sat against his mother, face hidden against her neck. He fell asleep after being fed soft squash and broth, as well as a few sweets his father snuck him. 

Rhaenyra rubbed her hand against her child's back. Her eyes wandered over the sea of Northmen to see her father whispering to Domeric, she turned away toward Robb. She had not properly looked at him in hours. His blue eyes were heavy, he clearly had not rested well. His hair was unkempt and his cloak was thrown over his shoulders. The King in the North looked awfully stressed. Rhaenyra felt no sympathy, she was still upset with him. 

"You're still not speaking to me?" Robb questioned as his eyes met hers. She did not answer. "Rhaenyra." 

"Robb." She teased. "I am punishing you for your idiocy in trusting Theon." Rhaenyra sat straighter in her seat as she heard the low growl from Grey Wind. "Perhaps I am more upset at my own stupidity. I should have stayed. We would not have this fear over Bran and Rickon if I had stayed." 

Robb sighed, "I need you here. Even if you're hardly saying anything to me." He took a sip from his drink before speaking. "I lifted the ban on flaying for your brother, just as I did for you. Will you write to him tonight asking for his status?" Rhaenyra nodded, reaching to grasp his hand. 

"Winterfell will be safe." She turned to see Ser Alton Lannister being brought forward. Her eyes looked to the two Lords who pulled him forward by the shoulders, nearly dragging him. Her father and Lord Karstark shoved him before the high table. Rhaenyra tightened her hand around her husband's, angry the war was to be brought up during her son's name-day celebration. "Ser Alton."

"Queen Rhaenyra, King Robb." He nodded to the two. "I bring news from King's Landing."

"What did she say?" Robb questioned, he moved forward in his seat. 

"She admired your Stark spirit, your grace, your honor. And that of who she called the Pretty Wolf." His green eyes shifted to Rhaenyra. 

"What else?" She said. Ser Alton began to stutter over his words, causing Robb to reach for Grey Wind slightly. The wolf's growls became louder as Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. 

"If every man were held accountable for the actions of every distant relative, Ser Alton, we'd all hang," Rhaenyra sniggered at her husband's words. 

Ser Alton looked to the wolf who sat at the feet of the Northern monarch's, "She tore the paper in half your grace." 

"You've acted with honor. I thank you for it. Lord Karstark, see that Ser Alton's pen is clean, and give him a hot supper." 

"Ser Alton's pen is occupied, Your Grace. The prisoners from the Yellow Fork," spoke Lord Karstark. 

Roose smiled slightly, turning to Rhaenyra. "Too many prisoners," he spoke with his usual sick pride. 

"Does he need to lie down," Rhaenyra questioned. She looked over the drained knight as he struggled to stand. 

"Have the men build him a new pen. Put him in with the Kingslayer for now. Have your boy watch over them," Robb said. 

Roose and Lord Karstark walked toward the camp, Lord Karstark calling for his son as they departed. Rhaenyra turned back to the crowd, searching for Domeric once more. "You're too kind. Wanting all our prisoners to have their own pen."


	15. Chapter 14

Rhaenyra stood on the edge of the small camp swinging her arms. She sighed and looked up to see her breathe floating in the air. Her arms stalled as she tightened her husband's cloak around her. She packed light for their week-long trip to the Crag, insisting she would steal his clothing if necessary.

It was an unusually cold morning for the South. Rhaenyra had woken before the rest of the party, leaving her husband in a heap of furs and sheets. She smiled as her thoughts drifted to their night's actions. Her eyes quickly shifted to Grey Wind who ran in the clearing before her. He hopped through the tall grass as he chased after some poor animal. She walked forward, placing her hand against the scratchy bark of the nearest tree. Rhaenyra rested her foot against the rising roots and crossed her arms under the cloaks.

Grey Wind continued to jump through the grass until he stood tall, his fur contrasting heavily against the drying greens. His mouth grasped a rabbit as he trotted toward Rhaenyra. She leaned fully against the tree waiting for him to join her.

Her thoughts drifted to the rest of the Stark party. She thought of her children, her mother in law and her father. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at the thought of her father. She had grown tired of his excessive eagerness in her children, his need to influence them in their young age obvious. She hoped Catelyn's growing distaste for him caused him to stray during the past week.

Grey Wind shaking between the grass drew her attention. Rhaenyra bent to his level, causing him to rush toward her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed his body, gripping his face between her hands. She ignored his blood-stained mouth as he licked her gloved hands.

"Your grace," she stood quickly and whipped her hands against her dress. She turned to see Robb smiling behind her. "Will you allow me to escort you this morning?" He offered his arm and she happily ran to take it. The two walked through the camp, intertwining their fingers as they moved past the men taking down the little tents that were up.

"I hope we get back soon," said Rhaenyra as she began to swing their hands. "I am desperate to see our children."

"As am I." Robb's steps slowed as Grey Wind trotted before them. "It has been a week and I miss them terribly."

She brought his hand to her lips, "It has been nearly a year since." Her voice faded as they came to a stop.

Robb looked toward her, "I wish our sons knew him properly." Rhaenyra could see the tears in his eyes, she brought her hand to his face. "I had never seen him so proud as he was the day Domeric was born. It was a new pride from when my siblings were born." He gazed down toward her, "He once told me that being a lord is like being a father, except you have thousands of children and you worry about all of them. The farmers plowing the fields are yours to protect. The charwomen scrubbing the floors, yours to protect. The soldiers you order into battle. He told me he woke with fear in the morning and went to bed with fear in the night. I didn't believe him. I asked him, "How can a man be brave if he's afraid?" "That is the only time a man can be brave," he told me." She laughed at his story, rubbing her fingers against his cheek.

"Each of our bannermen refuses to speak ill of him. Our sons will grow knowing the great man their grandfather was." Robb nodded before pulling away to continue their walk. The two followed Grey Wind, watching as he sniffed at random men and laughing as some would watch the wolf in shock. The two reached the edge of the camp, Rhaenyra snickered before whistling loudly. Grey Wind erupted into a sprint toward the heavy tree line in the distance.

Robb laughed lowly, "He's very obedient." He dropped her hand before walking forward, the sound of a horse whining could be heard. "I wonder who that could be." Rhaenyra shrugged as the sound of horses hooves grew louder. Few men approached, holding banners of House Stark.

"Your grace, my queen." A single man approached, bowing his head to the two.

"What's happened?" Questioned Rhaenyra. Her heart dropped at the thought of her sons being harmed, or a raid happening with them present.

"The Kingslayer has escaped."

"How?" Robb spoke through gritted teeth.

He yelled for Olyvar to prepare his horse, along with Rhaenyra's. The two would journey with the riders back to camp. Rhaenyra felt her heart race as they rode toward Riverrun, she feared the worse would be discovered. She wondered if he had killed any men during his escape. With each passing mile came a silent prayer he would be caught.


End file.
